


Down to the River

by 7iris



Category: My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: AU, Fae & Fairies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-30
Updated: 2009-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-17 00:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7iris/pseuds/7iris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Just for a second, when he found the body, Brian could swear he smelled the River, cool water and cattails and clean, wet earth. </em></p><p>Urban fantasy private eye AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down to the River

Just for a second, when he found the body, Brian could swear he smelled the River, cool water and cattails and clean, wet earth. He breathed in deep without really meaning to and the sweet scent vanished, leaving only the alley stink of piss and garbage.

"Fuck," Brian muttered, and dug out his cell phone. Bert answered Quinn’s phone. "Bert, get your asses down to the office now, we have a problem."

"What kind of a problem?" Bert mumbled.

Brian hung up and took a picture of the problem with his phone. The body was sprawled naked on the ground: a man, pale skin, blond hair, cheekbones you could cut yourself on. It looked like he'd been shot in the back of the head at close range. Brian sent the photo to Quinn, and then called back.

"That. That is our problem. There is a dead body in the alley behind the office and I want to know what the fuck it's doing there." Brian hit the end key and texted Jepha. _OFFICE NOW PLZ_ "Motherfucker, I don't need this shit in my life."

There was clatter on the fire escape above him — Bert and Quinn climbing out the office window.

"Shit," Quinn said, and they scrambled down the ladder.

"How long have you guys been here?" Brian asked.

"Since last night," Quinn said. "We crashed here."

"You didn't hear the gunshot?"

"No," Quinn said. "But..."

"But what?"

Quinn frowned at the body. "There's not enough blood. The body was dumped, he wasn't killed here."

Fuck. "Bert, tell me something useful."

Bert had been staring fixedly at a puddle by the body's feet, and he twitched, startled, when Brian said his name. "Right, okay, right." He squatted down and touched his bare fingers to the corpse's ankle. His breath came out in a soft whoosh and his eyes unfocused. "He's half-fae."

That wasn't a surprise, and it wasn't anything that wouldn't be all over the news tomorrow. Brian waited.

"It's...there's something missing from his face."

"Yeah, a good chunk of his cheek," Brian said. It had been a pretty large caliber gun.

Bert let out a startled caw of laughter and rocked back on his heels, but he was already shaking his head. "Nah, man, that happened so fast the body didn't even notice. Whatever was there, it's been gone long enough for him to miss it, but not long enough to get used to it being gone. Y'know?"

Brian didn't, exactly — it wasn't his kind of magic. But he got the basic idea. "He had an identifying mark on his face removed before he died."

Bert shrugged, still touching the dead man's ankle. The he frowned. "Also, the body's been in the River."

"Fuck," Brian said.

The River, wide and deep and slow, ran through downtown Salt Lake City — just not in their universe.

  
**::**   


After they wiped Bert's prints off the corpse, Brian called the cops.

They took one look at the dead guy's cheekbones and jumped to the right conclusions about his parentage. As a result, the interview was pretty half-assed.

A couple of crime scene technicians showed up eventually. One of them obviously remembered Bert and Quinn from the force, and she gave them a little wave when the uniform's back was turned. Jepha showed up ten minutes after that and watched the proceedings from behind the yellow POLICE LINE tape.

The cops gave Brian a hard time about his PI license and the agency, but more like it was for form's sake, not out of any real interest in a possible suspect. Finally, Brian gave them his business card and promised to be in touch if any of them remembered anything, and they got to go back inside with the wheezy air conditioner.

"Each and every last one of those rat-fucked bastards can choke on my dick," Jepha said mildly.

Brian scrubbed a hand across his face. Back when he first met them all, you would have sworn Quinn was the one with fae blood, with his bleach-blond hair and sharp, prickly prettiness, not Jepha. They'd all changed since then, of course. Quinn stopped bleaching his hair and looked like the cop he would have been if he'd stayed on the force. Jepha smiled more, and almost no one mistook Bert for a woodwose anymore.

The truth was most people didn't consider the half-fae human, any more than they considered the full fae — or pixies or the Boogeyman — human.

"No one's going to care about some dead half-fae kid in an alley in the River district," Jepha said.

"No one but us," Quinn said.

"It's a murder investigation," Brian argued half-heartedly. "The cops could shut down this whole agency if they think we're interfering."

"Don't do that," Bert said. "Don't act like there's any real chance of that happening."

Brian looked at Jepha. "All right. We'll check it out."

  
**::**   


The wards on the threshold flared up for a second when Brian unlocked his front door, then subsided, and Brian smiled like he always did at the feel of his landlady's grumpy magic.

Brian was surrounded by other people's magic. His landlady's wards on his apartment, Quinn's wards on the office, the personal wards, like a mystical version of body armor, that he'd had tattooed onto his throat by a hedge-witch on Slate street. And everywhere, the faint, sweet, strange feel of the magic that leaked across from the Fairy Kingdom like the smell of the River where the walls between their worlds were thinnest.

He held his own magic folded up close inside himself, muffled and camouflaged by the buzz of other people's power. Sometimes he thought he should miss it more.

  
**::**   


A week went by, and they had no new information. They didn't even have a name for the body. There were no hits on his prints, no missing person reports.

Jepha talked to his contacts in the River district, but came up empty. "Nobody's missing him."

"Could he be a refugee?" Brian asked. More of the lesser fae were coming over in the wake of the civil war that had broken out in the Fairy Kingdom.

Jepha half shrugged, half shook his head. "The people that come over — it's a tight-knit community. They're not missing him either."

It took another week of begging and wheedling until the ME gave in and slipped Brian a copy of the autopsy report.

"Cause of death was a single gunshot wound to the back of the head at close range, with a downward trajectory, indicating the victim was sitting or kneeling when he was shot," Armstrong said at the coffee shop.

"I saw the body. Tell me something I don't know."

"Check the tox screen."

Brian flipped to the right page. "Valerian? Someone drugged him?"

"Maybe. Or maybe he was taking to help him sleep. Valerian's not going to knock you on your ass without a spell to boost the effects, and a spell is going to dissipate before the body clears the chemicals. It would explain the lack of defensive wounds, though, and there's no bruising or abrasions to indicate he was tied up or restrained."

Brian chewed on a coffee stirrer and thought about that. "Bert said he was in the River."

"I'd take McCracken's word for it. The body was definitely in water post-mortem. Not long, just enough to rinse any physical evidence away. It wasn't the Jordan and it sure as fuck wasn't the lake, but I don't have a profile for the River to compare against." Armstrong snapped the lid back on his tea, and picked up his bag.

"Thanks," Brian said belatedly.

"Don't mention it," he said. "Seriously, don't. You tell anyone and I'll have to kick your ass. You owe me big for this."

Brian nodded. "Hey," he said as he turned to go. "Uh, say hi to Branden for me, okay?"

Armstrong gave him a long, considering look. "Yeah," he said finally. "Okay."

  
**::**   


When Brian walked into the back room of the office, Jepha wasn't wearing any pants.

"New tattoo?" Brian asked.

Jepha swiveled his stool around and grinned. "Check it out."

The angry new tattoo was high up on his thigh. It looked like squirrel trying to grab Jepha's balls.

"Get it?" Jepha asked, and Brian snorted. God help him, he did get the stupid testicular pun Jepha had gotten tattooed on his body.

Brian reached out, fingertips not quite touching Jepha's skin. There wasn't even any power in it. He wasn't surprised, really. Jepha had the most ridiculous things tattooed all over him, and none of them had any power, no protection or glamour or focus. They were just...ink on skin.

"You should get a squirrel with a nut right over your ass-crack next," Bert said. "Like the squirrel's burying it for the winter. In a hole. In —"

"Yeah, we get it," Brian said dryly. He looked up and met Jepha's eyes. Jepha was still grinning, pleased with himself, and Brian smiled back automatically. He made himself look away fast. "Speaking of tattoos, Quinn, which of the Families marks their bond-servants on the face?"

"Dominion House," Quinn said. "Why? Is that what you think was on the John Doe's face, a geas-tattoo?"

Jepha's smiled slipped.

"Half-fae, identifying mark removed by magic — it's possible," Brian said.

"You notice when it's gone," Jepha said. His left hand slid up to curl protectively over his right bicep. "The body would remember missing that."

"Dominion House hasn't reported freeing a bond-servant with that description, or you know, any description, in basically forever," Quinn said.

"They wouldn't report a runaway."

"They wouldn't report a slave they killed, either," Jepha said quietly.

"Yeah," Brian said. He didn't have any doubts on that front. "But Dominion House, fuck. I can't believe they'd be so sloppy, dumping the body out in plain sight."

"You could always ask them," Bert said helpfully.

There was a pause while everyone considered that.

"Yeah," Brian said heavily. "I guess that's what I'm going to do."

  
**::**   


Brian knew the general neighborhood where the families that belonged to Dominion House lived, and that was pretty much all he needed to know. He drove up and down the streets until he found the house that reeked of Old Magic, generations and generations of Old Magic.

He rang the doorbell, and he could swear the wards stung his finger. A man opened the door, a servant, medium-build, grey hair, the runes of nullification tattooed on his forehead and hands to make him untouchable by magic.

Brian gave him his business card. "I'd like to talk to Joseph Young for a few minutes."

"Please wait," the man said gravely and stepped aside to let Brian in.

Brian waited in the marbled entrance way, trying not to fidget, until the servant returned to lead him into a wood paneled library. There was another grey-haired man behind the desk, taller and leaner and bright with power. He stood up and smiled when Brian entered, and shook his hand firmly. Brian could feel the push of Young's magic, not attacking but testing, searching. Brian clamped down on the instinct to push back and instead let the warrior tattooed on his neck take the force of it and turn it aside.

"I'm a busy man, Mr. Schechter, but I must admit, I am intrigued to meet a private eye. How can I help you?"

"I'm investigating the death of this man," Brian said, and handed over an autopsy photo, the head and shoulders of the John Doe.

Young took the photo and studied it, and his mildly interested expression didn't change. "I'm sorry, but I would think the police would be handling something like this."

"They are, but I've been retained by a private party to investigate further. We don't feel the police have the will or resources to close the case."

"Ah. I don't know this man. Should I?"

"He had an identifying mark removed from his face shortly before he died. We suspect it was bond-mark."

"And of course you think of my Family." Young glanced at the door and on cue, it swung open. A boy, dressed in a knee-length white robe and carrying a tray of glasses, entered. Butterfly wings were tattooed across his eyes and cheekbones like a mask. "Refreshments?"

The boy knelt beside Brian's chair and held up the tray, offering coffee and ice water. His form was perfect, eyes downcast, only the finest tremble visible in his arms, the tiniest breath of fear and strain. Young had done it to make Brian uncomfortable, and it worked, but not for the reasons he assumed.

"No thanks," Brian said.

Young waved the boy away. "None of my bond-servants are missing. And I must say, it would take a pretty poor magician to leave evidence of a bond-mark behind."

"Actually, they were real good, you couldn't sense anything with the Old Magic, but our forensic psychic is a Wild Talent. Their skills are always surprising."

"I see," Young said, and he studied Brian carefully, with eyes as dull and hard as river rock. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help."

Brian could recognize a brush-off when he heard one.

Young stopped him when Brian's hand was on the door. "Who did you say your client was again?"

Brian's heart kicked hard in his chest. "I didn't. It's confidential," he said lightly and made his exit.

  
**::**   


"He was lying, but those Families — knowledge is power to them, and they're not going to just give it away for free." Brian drummed his fingers restlessly on the desk. "I just. I wish we had something more to go on."

"Oh!" Quinn said, and sat up so fast he almost fell off the stool. "Fuck, yes, that's what I was going to say. We should get Dan to come and look at the crime scene. He's an earth-witch for the UTA, maybe he can pick up something we've missed."

Brian frowned. "Why would he sense anything if Bert couldn't?"

" _Because_ , Bert reads the psychic impressions that living things leave behind on inanimate objects, but Dan can actually talk to, like, the dirt and get it to tell him what it saw." Quinn said all that with a _well, duh_ tone of voice. Brian didn't really get Wild Talents; their skills and limitations were so different from the magic he was used to that it was like a foreign language. It just pissed him off sometimes that Quinn seemed to get it, since Quinn's Family had been in Utah since before the Sons of Joseph Smith arrived.

"Also, Dan's awesome," Bert said on an exhale of smoke.

"Fine, call him," Brian said.

  
**::**   


Dan showed up after his shift ended, high-fived everybody, and grabbed Bert's ass.

"So, I'll just go have a chat with your asphalt," he said cheerfully and bounded off into the alley.

He plopped himself down and ran his hand over the ground like he was rubbing the belly of a big dog. He made a series of ridiculous faces at the ground, nodding and shaking his head periodically.

"I thought earth-witches couldn't work with manmade materials," Brian said after a minute.

"Dan can," Quinn said.

"He's the man," Bert added. "If he can't do it — ow, fucker!"

Dan gave the asphalt one last decisive nod and scrambled up. He dusted his hands off against each other, stopped, made a face at his palms, and wiped them off against his jeans as he walked back to them.

"So," he said. "Your body basically just appeared out of nowhere."

"What — someone kicked it out of a car?"

"Nooooo," Dan said severely. "One minute the alley was minding its own beeswax and the next thing it knows, a hole has opened into our world and bam! A corpse and some water pops out."

"Someone dumped his body in the River and it spit him out?" Jepha's voice sounded strange. For a second, he looked like he didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry.

Dan shrugged. "The alley doesn't lie, man."

"If he was killed on the other side," Quinn started saying.

Brian shook his head. "He was shot. The Fair Folk haven't exactly embraced guns with open arms. I think one of the Families has been fucking around in fae politics, and they either got their wrist slapped, or."

"Or they're tying up loose ends," Jepha said. "Nothing's supposed to come out of the River. They say it eats secrets."

"It's how I'd do it," Brian said absently.

"We still need proof."

"Actually, I need weed and the biggest, greasiest bacon cheeseburgers this city has to offer," Dan said.

  
**::**   


They compromised on Chinese take-out.

Brian left when the weed came out, the smell of it making him weirdly melancholy. Jepha stood up, too, and there was a chorus of disappointed hooting and boos. But Jepha shook his head and followed Brian to his car.

He was smiling a little on the sidewalk, but he seemed to deflate and crumple in the passenger seat, head tipped against the window. Finally, when they were stopped at a red light, Brian bumped his knuckles gently against Jepha's thigh. "C'mon, what?"

Jepha sighed and tilted his head so he could see Brian, but he didn't start talking until the light changed and Brian had to look at the road. "There's this...urban legend, I guess, that if any of the Fair Folk die in the city, the River will come for them, take them back to their world. When it turned out the dead guy had been in the River, I thought, I thought the River had come for him. Not all the way, it didn't take him, but it heard him or something, it recognized some part of him. And then it turned out the opposite was true, that he'd been in the River and it fucking spit him out, like —" Jepha stopped and pressed his lips together.

Brian had to clear his throat before he could talk. "Fuck that noise. It didn't spit him out, it brought him to us, so we could do something, so we could catch who did this. So they wouldn't get away with it." For the last couple of words, Brian actually believed himself.

Jepha gave him a faint smile. They were quiet for a moment, the hum of the pavement filling up the space between them.

"I have to talk to the Dominion House slaves," Jepha said finally.

Brian's fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "I know."

  
**::**   


"The Salon," Quinn said. "Everyone who's anyone, from a major House anyway, goes at some point. Half of them are there to show off, and the other half are there to do business, so they all bring their prettiest, shiniest bond-servants, but they'll send them away if they want to talk seriously. It's pretty much the only time bond-servants from different Houses mix without supervision."

"How is he going to get in?" Bert asked.

Quinn smirked. "Here's the best part: the wards are keyed to ignore anyone who's half-fae. It's such a bother to rekey them every time someone brings a new servant, you know. As long as you don't have strong malicious intent, it'll let you through no problem. So just think happy thoughts."

Jepha made a face.

Brian rented a limo and changed the plates, and then just parked with the rest of the Family cars. They didn't get a second glance.

"Check your wire," Brian said.

Jepha ran his thumb along the curve of one of his earrings, a plain black plug with a microphone hidden in the center.

"How's it sound?" Jepha asked.

Quinn gave him a thumbs up. "We're recording."

"Ready?" Brian asked quietly.

Jepha pressed his palms together over his nose and mouth and stared at the floor of the car. "I was lucky when Feldmann bought my contract out. I was lucky I got out when I did."

"I know," Brian said.

Jepha took deep breath and lifted his head. "Okay, let's go."

He got through the wards fine and found the retiring lounge for the bond-servants. The low murmur of conversation filled the car.

"I'm sorry, this is a silly question," Jepha said at last, and his voice was soft and timid. Easy voices encouraged him. "I'm looking for someone. We met when I was here six months ago, but my Lord has been travelling, and he said we could meet again when I returned, and I hoped..." Jepha's voice trailed off. "He is tall and pale and blond, and he belongs to Dominion House."

"Aren't they going to think it's weird that Jepha's supposed to be banging this guy and he doesn't know his name?" Bert asked.

"No," Brian and Quinn said together.

Bert looked at them. "Okay."

The question circulated among the bond-servants, until someone from Dominion House came in.

"Ohhh," the new-comer said. "He is no longer with our House."

"Is he all right?" Jepha asked. "Did he — what happened?"

"Three, almost four months ago, he was given to one of the fae ladies and went to live at their Court."

"Oh," Jepha breathed. "Who was it? What was her House?"

"I don't know. But I think —" There was murmur of muffled voices, like the speaker had turned aside from the microphone, then, "Yes, her insignia was a gold boar."

"Why does that sound familiar?" Quinn asked. Brian shook his head, listening with half an ear as the conversation shifted to other gossip.

And then stopped completely. Brian recognized the quality of that silence with a little curl of dread.

"Well, well, aren't you pretty?" someone said, over-loud and a little slurred. "Who's your Lord?"

No one replied.

"Answer me, boy." This time there was something dark and mean in it.

Jepha said — because, fuck, of course it was Jepha — "If my Lord wanted me to tell you that, he would have marked me where you could see it."

The ringing crack of a slap came over the radio, and, okay, later Bert said it was like Brian went into some kind of berserker rage, but Brian only remembered feeling an anger so vast and cold it was like a kind of calmness. He shoved the car door open and hit the pavement, crossing the driveway and the lawn in long, fast strides, not quite running. He could feel his magic unfold inside of him like wings, up and out. He pulled a glamour around himself with a few words, hiding the tattoo on his neck, making his t-shirt and jeans look like a suit and tie.

The wards on the house started a foot from the tall French doors that opened onto the terrace and back lawn. Brian wanted to smash through them, shatter them like glass, and he was almost, almost sure he had enough power to do it. He took a deep breath instead, and reached out to touch them gently. The key to the spell was stupidly simple, a children's exercise that anyone from any House would have been taught growing up. The shield parted and the doors swung open at his counter-spell.

From the outside of the wards, the ballroom behind the French doors was brightly lit but empty. On the other side, it was full of people. The hum of conversation mingled with the sound of a string quartet in the corner. Servants circulated with food and drinks, and the entire space buzzed with Old Magic. Brian could recognize three different Families just from the feel of their magic against his skin.

He walked towards the door on the other side of the room, trying not to look like he was hurrying. He should have taken one of the fucking earpieces with him, so he could know what was happening to Jepha. In the hallway outside the ballroom, he stopped and curled one hand into a loose fist. He concentrated on Jepha and breathed the words of a locating spell under his breath. When he opened his hand, a tiny point of witchlight floated up and started drifting down the hall. He followed it.

It led him to a room with heavy wooden doors, carved with vines and discreetly marked with the glyphs for "bond-servant" and "privacy." One of the doors was ajar.

Brian killed the witchlight and walked in.

Jepha was on his knees in front of a man in a black suit. His head was bowed, but Brian could still see the angry red mark on his cheek.

"If you touch him again, I'll fucking kill you," Brian said, which wasn't quite what he'd been planning to say, but was definitely honest.

The man jerked back and turned to blink bemusedly at Brian. His tie was undone and his eyes were red-rimmed. "What?"

Brian moved forward, until his aura pushed into the man's personal space. It wasn't exactly an attack, but it made the man flinch and step back. Brian kept going, until he was in between Jepha and the asshole. Brian was vaguely aware of the other people in the room, the body-servants pressing back against the walls, perfectly still, and a few Family members drawn to the drama like vultures.

"I didn't know he was yours," the man was saying.

"You sure as fuck should've known he wasn't _yours_ ," Brian said.

The man's mouth worked, and his fingers flexed; he looked like he was trying to build up some indignation.

Then a woman's voice said, "Brian Schecter. I can't decide if you are exactly the same or completely different."

Some of the tension eased. The man blinked and stepped back again, more aware of his surroundings, and Brian could look away from him.

He recognized the woman. "Marian."

She smiled. She moved closer and glanced down at Jepha. "He's yours?"

"Yes," Brian said flatly, unhesitating. He put his hand on Jepha's head, cupping the curve of Jepha's skull in his palm, and Jepha swayed forward until was pressed against Brian's leg.

Marian's smiled widened. "The last I heard, you walked out on the Family because you didn't want to have bond-servants."

Brian smiled back and it felt nasty on his mouth. "Not exactly. I didn't want any of _you_ to have bond-servants."

"Oh, well, I admit, there are times when I can sympathize with that," she said, with a disdainful glance at the man in the black suit, who flushed and finally scurried out of the room. "What are you doing here?"

Brian wanted to say _Nothing_ and drag Jepha out of there, but that would be as good as admitting he had something to hide. "I heard Dominion House was playing around in fae politics."

It wasn't what she was expecting. "I hadn't heard that," she said.

Brain shrugged. "I suddenly don't give a fuck." He shifted his weight and tugged gently on Jepha's hair, and Jepha obediently rose to his feet. "Nice seeing you again, Marian. Don't be in touch."

He stepped around her and walked out the door, Jepha one pace behind him. She didn't say anything else.

In the foyer, Brian created a little bubble of witchlight. "Quinn, bring the car," he said, and the bubble vanished with a pop. He looked back; Jepha's eyes were demurely downcast, his face expressionless. Conscious of the servant standing near the door, Brian pulled a silencing spell around them before he asked, "Are you okay?"

Jepha nodded without looking up.

It seemed like forever before he heard the screech of tires outside. Another bubble appeared in front of them. "Car's here," Quinn's voice said unnecessarily, and the bubble popped.

A uniformed servant held the front door for them, bowing slightly as they passed. The limo's door swung open as they came down the wide, shallow steps. Brian slid into the backseat and Jepha sat down across from him. In the driver's seat, Quinn flicked a finger and the door slammed shut, and then they were pulling out.

"Fuck," Brian said. All that cold, possessive rage evaporated, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He slumped down in his seat. "Are you okay?" he asked again.

"Yeah." The red mark had faded from Jepha's face, but his shoulders were tight. "Did you get everything?"

"Yeah," Quinn said. "We got it, but we don't know what it means."

Jepha took the plugs out of his ears. Bert put them carefully away, then reached over to poke his finger through Jepha's lobe. Jepha actually did smile a little at that, and Bert flopped down in his lap.

"Who was that woman who knew you?" Quinn asked.

For a second, Brian thought about lying to them, but he could feel the Old Magic humming beneath his skin and figured there wasn't much point. "She's my cousin, a bunch of times removed or whatever, on my mother's side."

None of them seemed surprised. "None of you seem surprised."

They looked at each other, and then back at him. "You always called them the Families, like they were the only ones," Jepha said.

"Oh."

"It's okay," Bert said. "Everybody has shit in their past they don't want to talk about."

"Oh," Brian said again, and felt not just tired but kind of dumb, too. "It's just — Quinn's Family is different. They don't keep bond-servants, they don't chase the Wild Talents out of their neighborhood. They're like crazy liberals." Quinn met his eyes in the rearview mirror and grinned. "My Family...isn't. I didn't want to be a part of that anymore."

The rest of the ride was silent. Quinn dropped Brian off at his apartment, and Jepha got out, too. "I'm in the other direction from you guys anyway. I'll get a cab," he said, but his voice was distant.

"Please try not to wreck the car," Brian said without much hope. "It's a rental."

Bert cackled and climbed into the front seat, and they pulled out with another squeal of tires. Brian sighed. "Come on, you can wait upstairs while you call a cab."

When they got inside, Brian kicked his shoes off and started scrolling through his phone. He stopped in the middle of the living room and turned around. "Is City Cab the bag of dicks, or —?"

Jepha dropped to his knees and the rest of Brian's question dried up in his mouth.

Objectively speaking, Jepha was not exactly handsome, with his ridiculous tattoos and his ridiculous facial expressions and occasionally unfortunate hair choice, and the less said about the porn-stache the better, but every now and then, his beauty hit Brian like a punch to the gut.

Jepha slid his hands up Brian's thighs.

"Um," Brian said, too high-pitched.

Jepha undid the first button on Brian's jeans. "You can't tell me you don't want this."

Brian couldn't. He had a whole movie's-worth of things he wanted playing out behind his eyes, starting with stripping Jepha naked and making sure his mark was the only one on Jepha's skin. But there was a blade-thin edge of anger and something like unhappiness in Jepha's voice that made it easier for him to say, "I don't want to want this. I don't want to be what they want to make me."

Jepha closed his eyes and Brian held himself very still.

"Yeah," Jepha sad, low and rough, and rose to his feet in one smooth movement. "City Cab is fine."

  
**::**   


Jepha wouldn't stay, and he wouldn't call Bert and Quinn, and Brian slept like shit that night.

Jepha was in the office with Bert and Quinn when Brian got there. He looked like Brian felt.

"I've been asking around, and I figured out why the wild boar thing was important. You know that civil war that's going on in the Fairy Kingdom?"

"Oh, shit," Brian said.

"Yeah. There are two bloodlines leading the whole thing, and the coat of arms of one of them, Arthurshiel, has a golden boar."

"What was Dominion House doing fucking around with a coup?"

"The current King and Queen haven't had a baby in, well, a really long time even by fae standards. People are starting to say it's a sign that the gods have withdrawn their favor. Guess who's pregnant now."

Brian's stomach lurched. "A woman from Arthurshiel's Line."

"Her husband's family is the other big player. It's why they have the support of some of the older, more conservative Lines."

"But even if what you're thinking is true, that Dominion House gave them a bond-servant because she was more likely to get pregnant with someone who's half human," Bert said, slowly, "three-quarters fae isn't enough to pass, not forever."

Jepha met Brian's eyes. "Not for more than a year."

"And then the kid will have an accident," Quinn said.

"Not an accident. It will look intentional, like one of their enemies did it. Two birds with one stone," Brian said, and Jepha nodded.

"And we still don't have proof Dominion House did anything wrong."

Brian grinned, all teeth. "Yeah, but I bet the King and Queen won't be so picky about circumstantial evidence at this point."

  
**::**   


The embassy of the Fairy Kingdom was downtown, where the invisible pull of the River's current was the strongest. The gate was made of brushed aluminum, twisted like a net floating on the tide with polished spheres of seaglass caught in it. It was beautiful, delicate and otherworldly; the embassy had bought it from Italy.

Brian took a copy of the autopsy report, a tape of Jepha's conversation with the body-servants, and Bert. He explained everything to a series of increasingly important fae officials, until, after a franticly whispered conversation in the hall between two staffers, he was allowed to see the ambassador.

Brian opened his mouth, and the ambassador lifted one hand in a silencing gesture, not looking up from the autopsy report. Brian shut his mouth, and made the mistake of glancing at Bert, who rolled his eyes hugely. Brian dropped his gaze and pressed the side of his fist against his mouth. The ambassador continued to read.

When he was done with the papers, he listened to the tape. Then he looked at them. "You," he said to Bert, "were the one who examined the body."

Bert coughed. "Yeah, uh, yes."

The ambassador crooked his finger and one of his staff came forward. She went down on one knee beside Bert's chair and held out one hand, palm up. Bert gave her a dubious look.

"In your courts, you would swear on your holy book that your testimony is true. She will serve much the same function here."

Bert still seemed uncertain, but he put his hand on hers. Then he took a deep breath and told them what he'd sensed on the body.

When he was done, the woman stood up and nodded. A feral, joyful smile flashed across the ambassador's face, then he composed himself. "The Kingdom is grateful for your service," he began.

"We’d like to see any evidence you uncover that relates to the humans involved in this," Brian said firmly.

The ambassador's lips thinned, but he nodded. "Of course. We'll give your police the sealed and certified testimony in accordance with our treaty."

"Thank you," Brian said, and let the ambassador finish dismissing them.

Jepha and Quinn were hanging out in a diner down the block.

"So?" Jepha said, when Brian and Bert slid into the booth.

"They'll look into it, and they'll turn over anything we can use against Dominion House," Brian said.

"Oh."

"Yeah." It was too damaging to the rebellion for the fae not to investigate, but it still felt... anticlimactic. "We did everything we could."

"What do we do now?" Quinn asked.

Brian shrugged. "The cheating husband case."

"Booo," Bert said. "My ass is still numb from that last stake-out."

  
**::**   


They finished the cheating husband case, and took another client who thought her teenage daughter had run away to the River district. They didn't hear anything more about their John Doe until Joseph Young walked into their office.

 _I never should have left my fucking card with him,_ Brian thought.

Young gave the office an amused once over, then took the chair in front of Brian's desk. Power crackled around him, and a tiny, smug smile hovered around his mouth. "I understand the fae ambassador has delivered certain documents to the police that implicate my House in the death of a bond-servant."

Brian folded his hands. "That is where our investigation led us, yes."

"You Wild Talents, you weirdos and freaks and half-bloods — you think you're so much better than the old Houses, than the Old Magic, but you forget that we are the ones with the power and the money and the influence."

"Is that a threat?"

Young's smile got wider. "I'm not here to threaten you, I'm here to gloat. I've invested wisely in this city, and that testimony is going to disappear, like nothing ever happened." He got to his feet. "I just wanted you to know."

He sauntered out. Brian watched him go and felt that cold, calm rage settle behind his eyes.

He picked up the phone.

"Steineckert."

"Branden, this is Brian. I need a favor."

There was a long pause, and then Branden snorted and said, "Of course you do. What is it?"

"Certified testimony came in from the fae courts about a case, but the department's going to bury it. I need you to get it for me before it disappears."

"I'm not even in Documents —"

"But you can get to it. Please."

"This is about that John Doe from last month, the half-fae one, right?"

"Yeah."

Branden sighed. "I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for Jepha."

"I know," Brian said. "Thank you."

  
**::**   


Branden was faster than he was expecting. Two days later a bike messenger showed up at the office with a padded envelope.

The testimony was a single scroll. The spells covering it felt cool and slick as water against his palm. The scroll could be opened and read, but not altered or damaged or destroyed.

They all sat around the table in the back room, looking at the scroll like it was either going to do a trick or viciously attack them.

"It worked with the fae," Brian said at last. "If we can't get justice through the human system, we can at least get revenge, if we give the testimony to the people who want to see Dominion House on its knees."

"It's not good enough," Jepha said.

"I know."

"Do it anyway."

Bert and Quinn nodded.

"Definitely," Dan said.

"Shut up, you're our free-lance consultant, you don't get a vote," Quinn said.

Brian picked up the scroll and went to his desk to call his mother.

  
**::**   


When finished the call, he felt tired and hollow and he really wanted a drink. The sun had just set when he left the office. The street outside was empty and still oven-hot, but when he turned to check the lock, a cool, damp breeze brushed across the back of his neck. And then he heard the hoofbeats.

The riders swept down on him out of nowhere, a roar of hooves and breath and muscle, close enough to touch. The woman on the one white horse pulled up sharply, making it rear and snort. He looked up into her face, cold and radiant as the moon, and everything went dazzlingly white, and then black.

  
**::**   


Brian didn't even have to open his eyes to know he was in the Fairy Kingdom. A cold, airy power danced against his skin like lighting in falling snow, nothing at all like the deep, steady magic of his universe. It made him dizzy. He heard voices, and it took him a minute to realize one of them was Jepha.

"Why him?" Jepha was saying.

"Do you think my taste is so much worse than yours, then?" The Fairy Queen's voice was low and rich and amused.

Brian dragged his eyes open. He was lying on a huge, soft bed in a room that looked like it had been made out of a forest. The walls were made of trees and night air, and the carpet was soft grass, dotted with tiny white flowers. The ceiling was lost in shadows that were full of dancing fairy lights.

Jepha stood in the middle of the room. He was wearing armor that had been polished at one point, but was now covered with mud and leaves. He had no weapons and his face was serious and hard.

"Have you come to fight me for him, then?" she asked.

"Yes," Jepha said.

Brian struggled up into a sitting position. Jepha flicked a glance at him and his tight expression eased a little.

"I'd, uh, really rather not, though, so if you could just set him free so we can go home, that would be great."

The Queen turned her head and gave Brian a rueful smile. Her beauty was muted here, easier to look at. "In truth, I had not meant to be so dramatic. I forget how sensitive you human witches are to the magic here. I only wanted to give you our thanks in person, for the service you did us."

He could hear an echo of Branden's voice in his head, _I didn't do for you._

"Nevertheless," she said, like she read his mind or maybe his face, and waved her hand. A heavy, silky bag appeared in Brian's lap, clinking as it settled. "The information you gave us turned the tide of the war in our favor."

There was something about the tone of her voice that sounded like she was talking about long gone events, and Brian felt an uneasy chill at the reminder that time passed...differently here.

"And the baby?" he asked.

"We have her, she is safe with us," the Queen said. Her brows arched at Jepha's expression. "She does us far more good at Court alive, as a reminder of her mother's and would-be father's treachery and deceit, than she would do us dead."

Jepha bent his head in acknowledgement, but didn't look especially reassured.

She turned back to Brian. "You are welcome to stay, both of you, if you wish. Let our Court fête you as you deserve."

"No. Thank you," he said. He glanced at Jepha, and Jepha nodded. "I'd rather just go home."

The Queen shrugged gracefully. "Then we are done." She clapped her hands, and she and the room disappeared, leaving Brian and Jepha alone in a real forest.

"Wow," Brian said. He was sitting on wet leaves now, instead of a bed. He looked up at Jepha. "Do you have a plan for getting us home?"

"More or less," Jepha said. He pulled Brian to his feet, and Brian grabbed his shoulder to steady himself, still dizzy and ungrounded. "You dropped your purse."

Brian blinked down at the bag the Queen had given him. It had transformed itself into what looked like a bowling ball bag. "It's just fairy gold. Leave it."

"Hey, we worked hard for that money." Jepha didn't let go of him, just bent his knees and kind of leaned sideways to grab the handles. He straightened up and looked around. "Okay, come on, this way."

Brian didn't know how Jepha knew where they were going, but eventually they came to a clearing. Bert was sitting in the grass, petting a griffin.

"Fuck," Jepha breathed, naked relief in his voice, and he slumped against Brian for a second.

"You brought Bert with you?"

"We brought everybody with us," Jepha said.

Bert looked up and grinned. "It likes me! See, I told you I could handle it." The griffin lolled on its back and purred. "Can we take it home?"

"No," Jepha said.

"God, no," Brian said.

Bert looked disappointed. He gave the griffin one final scritch and stood up.

They cut across the edge of the clearing. Just before they entered the woods again, Brian looked back. He thought the griffin looked a little disappointed, too.

It was getting lighter as they walked, until it was almost true dawn by the time they came out of the forest, into the meadow that ran down to the River. Quinn and Dan were waiting on the bank. Dan was flat on his back, staring up at the sky, and Quinn was sitting next to him, looking kind of nauseous.

"Are you guys okay?" Brian asked.

"The magic's weird here," Quinn said.

"It's like the earth is yelling me," Dan said vaguely. "Really loudly. In a foreign language."

"I don't know if I can get us back to the other side," Quinn said. "It's...I didn't expect it to be like this."

Jepha and Bert looked at Brian. He understood what Quinn meant, the way the power slipped away when you reached out for it. "Maybe if we try a circle to focus the power first?"

"Are we ready to go?" Dan asked. "Because I can ask the city to come get us."

"What?" Quinn said. "How does that even —"

It happened between one heartbeat and the next. First there was something harder under his feet than grass, and then they were in the street outside the office.

"Bad-ass!" Bert said, and Dan, still on the ground, threw his arms up over his head.

Brian sat down hard on the sidewalk. Jepha sat down next to him. It looked like it was early morning; Brian didn't want to know what day it was just yet.

Dan eventually had to go to work, and Bert and Quinn wanted to get breakfast. Brian wasn't hungry.

Jepha shook his head. "I gotta change," he said, tapping on the armor.

"Thanks for coming to get me, guys," Brian said.

Quinn gave him a pissy look. "What, you thought we wouldn't?"

Brian ducked his head.

Bert patted him on the shoulder. "We'll bring you back a burrito."

They shuffled off down the street. Brian stood up and gave Jepha, clanking slightly, a hand up. Jepha frowned when he picked up the bowling bag.

"It's fairy gold," Brian said. "It'll be leaves and dust by now."

Jepha opened it up. "Not exactly," he said, grinning, and pulled out a crisp, new hundred dollar bill.

"Shit," Brian said. It felt real. "No more cheating husband cases for at least a month."

They went up to the office so Jepha could take the armor off. Brian picked up one of the vambraces and brushed his hand over it. The dirt came off like it had never been there. He could recognize the magic of Quinn's House in the metal.

Jepha patted at the armor on his chest. "Um."

Brian went over and started undoing the buckles at the shoulder and on his side. He was suddenly conscious of how close they were standing, how quiet the room was. He cleared his throat. "Hold the front part and turn around." He undid the last buckle and took the backplate off, setting it on the table. Jepha turned back around and Brian took the breastplate.

"Do you —" Brian stopped and met Jepha's eyes. "When I said I didn't want to be like my Family, I didn't mean I didn't want _you_."

The corners of Jepha's mouth turned up. "Yeah, well, I was ready to throw down with the Fairy Queen for you, so."

"That would be a more compelling argument if I didn't think you'd do the same thing for anyone in this agency."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Jepha said and kissed him.

  
**::**   


"You know," Brian said later, breathlessly, "I think it would really help our issues if you tied me up."

Jepha lifted his head. "I'm listening."


End file.
